Mostly I'm worried about the fact that she can't remember shit. Poor thing, I imagine its because she has crammed so much knowledge in there over the years that she doesn't really have room anymore for some of the older, finer details. Her mother, my Nana, has a great memory. She's told me details about relatives that have been dead for a century. So I'm not really sure why Mom can't remember anything, as it is certainly not genetics. Though, now that I am edging closer to my 30th birthday, I know that I too am slipping and can't remember as much as I used to.
Insert old lady joke here.
LESSON SIX: Write it down.
I guess no matter what your age, family history, or need for a panic button, it is always a good idea to write it down. Whatever it is. An idea, a story, a lyric, a tattoo design on the back of napkin - if it's somewhere in print, it is likely to be remembered.
I'm good mix of real forgetful and not so bad. I remember birthdays. The miles between the Asheville and Knoxville (108), between Knoxville and Chattanooga (107), and the miles between Chattanooga and Atlanta (116). I remember the song my mom used to sing to me to when she was in physical therapy school. I also remember the song my Dad used to sing to me in the morning... the whistle too. Don't let anyone ever whistle the Montana Wake Up Song to you, I promise, you will never forget it.
This time, I decide to write down a goal. I want to finish a story I started and get it published on McSweeney's. I think it will have a chance too... I just needed the dedication of a note to self to motivate me. Like any good note to self, I will share it when I am ready.